


someone else but me

by lscar123



Series: so crazy in love/all eyes on me [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Getting Together, Homophobic Language, Humor And Healing, Implied/Referenced Past Sexual Abuse, M/M, Slow Burn, Spin Off, Therapy, past emotionally abusive relationship, public outing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-20 06:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13711536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lscar123/pseuds/lscar123
Summary: Kent Parson has been off the grid for two weeks following a disastrous loss in the playoffs and his public outing by a vindictive ex-boyfriend. Josh Campbell receives a call from a worried Jack Zimmermann in the middle of the night asking him to check on Kent.Josh isn't exactly close with Kent, other than the fact that Kent is his captain, but with their season over sooner than expected they get to know each other off the ice.(runs parallel torockets and waterfallsbut doesn't have anything to do with that plot and can be read as a stand alone)





	1. Sometimes I hide

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, first things first, the tags are a bit scary but I wanted to put them up from the beginning! The emotional abuse applies to Kent and his ex that is briefly talked about in rockets and waterfalls and obviously goes into greater detail in this. The sexual abuse applies to Josh and things that will be explained in the story, for which there will be warnings in every chapter it's dealt with. What happens happens in the past and is never described in detail, but it is talked about in a frank and honest way between characters and in therapy.
> 
> if you have any questions or concerns about anything you're welcome to message me on tumblr at [lscar123.tumblr.com](https://lscar123.tumblr.com) (i work overnight so I keep weird hours but I promise i'll answer as fast as I can) and i'll answer any questions you have, spoilers included if you need to know everything to feel comfortable reading.
> 
> This isn't dark and depressing at all, though it might not be as light and fluffy as rockets and waterfalls is so far. 
> 
> I'd had the idea of a Kent spin off in my head from the second I started rockets and waterfalls and I sat down and plotted this out. it's named after a lyric in a Britney Spears song in the same way that raw is named after a Beyonce one, with chapter titles also coming from Britney. 
> 
> I somehow ended up writing a 4k word character biography for Josh Campbell that ended up becoming super personal and made me cry while I was doing it so I pretty much I threw myself into this and adore the character that I've created. It isn't really dependant upon rockets and waterfalls which is why i'm posting it now, i've got a few chaters of each fic written so they'll be posted around the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws: one reference to suicide, but no one is actually suicidal, homophobic language, and brief talk of an emotinally abusive ex.

 

 

 

 

One

Sometimes I hide

 

Josh Campbell had a complicated relationship with sleep. Namely, that he barely got any.

It’d been like that for years, for almost as long as Josh could remember he couldn’t recall sleeping soundly though the night.

Which is why there was no surprise that he was woken up in the middle of the night by his buzzing phone on his nightstand. Josh rolled on his side and slowly opened one eye to look at his alarm clock, it was just after 1am.

Who the fuck was calling him after 1am? The only person Josh could think of was sleeping in the guest bedroom just down the hall from him, so his only answer was gone just as quickly as he thought of it. Josh grabbed his phone from the nightstand, yanking his charger out of the wall along with it, and hissed when the bright light from the screen burnt off his retinas.

Whoever was calling him wasn’t in his contacts, it was just a long string of numbers with no other identifying characteristics. Josh toyed with the idea of not answering the phone but decided against it, it could be someone he knew who was in trouble, or it could be some asshole prank calling him. If it was an asshole he’d at least get the satisfaction of telling them to go fuck themselves.

“Hello?” Josh answer groggily.

“Hi.” The voice on the other end said awkwardly.

Josh didn’t recognize the voice, so he waited to see if the person on the other end of the line would say anything else.

After a second, “It’s Jack Zimmerman.”

And well…that was probably the last thing Josh was expecting. If you’d asked Josh which 100 people, living or dead, who he’d thought would be calling him at 1am, Jack Zimmerman wouldn’t even make the list.

“Oh, uh, hey?” Josh said, unable to politely hide his confusion while he was half asleep.

“Sorry to call you so late but I just got a call from Kent, he didn’t sound like he was doing that great and he hung up on me. I tried to call him back but he turned off his phone. I’m…I’m worried about him and you were the only person I could think to call since you’re the only person who’s number I have besides Kenny.”

Josh didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t expecting anything like this when he went to bed. Hell, he didn't even know how Jack Zimmerman had his number. Still, if Jack Zimmerman was calling him because he was that worried about Parson then Josh had to do something.

“Shit,” Josh sighed, “thanks for calling me. I’ll head over to his apartment now, I’m only a few minutes away. I’ll send you a text once I know everything is good.”

“Thank you.” Jack said, and Josh could hear the relief in his voice.

Josh sat up and turned on his bedside lamp, swinging his feet off the side of the bed.

“No problem, I’ll take care of him.”

Josh paused at his own words. Where the hell did that come from?  He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at it for a second before hanging up and tossing it to the side.

Josh stretched his arms above his head, groaning in equal parts pain and pleasure as his joins cracked into place. He stood from the bed and groggily walked over to the dresser in the corner of the room and pulled out the first pair of sweats he could find before pulling out a loose-fitting shirt from the drawer underneath. Josh grabbed his wallet from the nightstand, then his phone, and stuffed them into his pocket. He slipped on a pair of flip flops and turned off the lamp before leaving the room.

He checked his reflection in the mirror on the back of his door and grimaced at what he saw. Josh’s chestnut colored hair was sticking up in every direction possible and the bags under his muddy brown eyes stood out even more against his noticeably pale end of season skin.

Running his hand through his hair didn’t do much to tame it, so Josh gave up on making himself look presentable and opened his door to step out into the hallway.

The hallway was quiet, not that Josh expected anything different. He made his way down the hall to the guest room, slowly opening it and stopping just outside the doorway. His younger brother was asleep, his legs tangled in the sheets and his arms thrown two different ways. He always wondered how his brother could possibly sleep when he was contorted like that.

“Kelly.” Josh said softly as he walked across the room.

Kelly didn’t move.

“Kell,” Josh said, louder as he nudged his brother, “Kell, wake up for a second.”

Kelly’s eyes slowly opened, “Josh? What’s wrong?”

Josh shook his head, “Nothing, everything is fine. I just have to go out for a bit.”

Kelly yawned and leaned up to look at the clock, “Dude, it’s past 1am.”

Josh sighed, “I know. A friend needs my help.”

Kelly shifted back down on the bed and pulled the blankets up to his neck, “You don’t have any friends, Josh.”

Josh rolled his eyes, “Don’t be a dick. I was just telling you in case you wake up and I’m gone, I don’t know what time I’ll be back.”

Kelly nodded, “You didn’t have to wake me up.”

Josh shook his head, a fond smile stretching across his face, “Love you, asswhipe.”

“Mhm.” Kelly yawned, “Love you too.”

Josh left his brother to his sleep and walked out into the living room. He grabbed his keys and his glasses and made his way out of the apartment after making sure the alarm was still set properly. He locked the door behind himself and quickly made his way to the elevator, tapping his foot while he waited for it to arrive.

Josh spent the entire elevator ride down wondering why he was going over to Kent Parson’s in the middle of the night. They weren’t terribly close, despite Josh being on the same team as Kent for the last two years. Kent was a good captain, he helped Josh when he needed it, but they weren’t what you would call friends.

The easy explanation was that Josh was a good person, Parson was obviously going through some shit right now. Everyone knew what Kent was going through, even his brother, and Kelly didn’t give a single fuck about anything sports related.

Any normal person would have gone over to check on Kent, especially after a late night call from someone who was obviously worried about their friend and not in a position to do anything to help them.

Josh wondered why Jack didn’t call Swoops, everyone knew that he and Parson were best friends. Or, well, they used to be best friends. They weren’t so friendly at the moment. Hell, Josh didn’t even know if Jeff and Kent were even speaking to each other. It wasn’t for Jeff’s lack of trying though, Kent had shut a lot of people out in the last few months. It effected the team so much that they were knocked out of the cup finals earlier than they’d ever been in the time that Kent had been captain.

So maybe it wasn’t a surprise that Jack hadn’t called Jeff instead. That was if Jack even knew that Kent wasn’t speaking to Jeff.

Whatever the case, it was Josh’s job to check on Kent now. He made the short drive to Kent’s apartment relatively quickly, taking all the back roads he could think of to avoid the traffic from the strip at night.

There was a lot to like about Vegas, driving on the strip at 1am was not one of them.

Josh had only been to Kent’s apartment a handful of times, but it never failed to amaze him how Kent’s apartment building was the size of four of Josh’s buildings stacked on top of each other. It wasn’t like Josh lived in a dump, at least not _anymore_ since he moved to a new building when Kelly moved in with him a few months ago, but there was an obvious pay difference between Josh and the star player of the Aces that was made very apparent by where they lived.

 Josh handed his keys to the valet, which his building didn’t have, and came to a stop in front of the doorman, which his building also didn’t have.

“Hi, I’m here to see Kent Parson.”

The doorman frowned, “I’m sorry, Mister Parson has made it clear that he would not like any visitors at the moment.”

Josh sighed, “Look, I know he wants to be alone but I just got a call from a friend who just talked to him and he was worried about Kent’s wellbeing.”

The doorman looked conflicted.

“We’re on the same team, it’s not like I’m a random stalker or a reporter.”

“I know, Mister Campbell, but I have the request coming directly from Mister Parson.”

Josh was tired, so he went for the big guns, “I have a reason to believe that Kent might be a danger to himself, so you can either let me go upstairs or I can call the police and have them take me upstairs.”

It was a dirty card, but Josh honestly didn’t know what kind of state Kent was in and he wanted to get up there as fast as he could.

“Very well,” the doorman said, leading Josh to an elevator, “follow me.”

“Thank you.” Josh said, “I’ll tell Kent I strong armed you into letting me up.”

“Please do.”

The doorman slid a security card into the elevator and then stepped back. Josh had been in the elevator enough times to know that the only way to get to Kent’s penthouse floor was with a special access card, so he leaned against the wall of the elevator and crossed his arms as he began the two-minute ascent to the top floor.

The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged, announcing it’s stop at the private penthouse floor. Josh stepped out of the elevator and into the long hallway in front of him. There was only one other door in the hall besides the elevator, and it was Kent’s front door. Josh had always felt claustrophobic in the hallway, and it was even worse when there were seven other hockey players in it. Now that he was alone in the hallway it felt claustrophobic in a different kind of way, Josh would have been lying if he said it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

The door to Kent’s apartment was huge. Josh was used to having to duck when walking through most doors, his own apartment door included, but he could just walk right through Kent’s doorway without having to even lower his head a fraction of an inch. The door was also solid oak and the hallway around Josh echoed as he pounded on it.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

Josh pressed his ear against the door, he couldn't hear much but music playing faintly inside the apartment. He also heard a glass break. At least Kent was inside, and alive enough to be breaking things.

“Parson, open the door.” Josh said as he knocked again.

The music on the other side of the door paused abruptly.

Josh knocked again, “I’m not leaving until you open the door.”

A few more seconds of silence went by, and then, “How the fuck did you get up here?”

Josh braced his hand on the frame of the door and leaned against it, “Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

“No.” Kent said, “Go the fuck away.”

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose, “No can do. Jack Zimmerman called me, I’m here for a wellness check.”

Another glass broke, followed by a muffled, “Motherfucker.”

Josh sat down on the floor of the hallway with his back to the wall opposite of Kent’s door and stetched his legs out, “I’m not leaving until you open the door.”

“If you don’t leave then I’m calling the cops.” Kent said immediately.

Josh laughed, maybe a little too loudly, “No you won’t.”

Kent might be drunk as fuck and pissed off, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to call the cops on one of his teammates in the middle of the media storm he was in.

“Fine, I won’t,” Kent said, “but one of my neighbors might.”

Josh shook his head, “You’re on a private floor, Parson. You don’t have any neighbors.”

More silence.

“If I open the door then you’ll leave?” Kent asked.

Josh crossed his fingers, “Sure.”

Josh never had a problem with lying, why start now?

The sound of deadbolts being undone drew Josh’s attention, he counted five in total before the door swung open to reveal a disheveled Kent Parson.

Kent was shirtless, dressed only in a pair of raggedy gym shorts and a bright orange snapback that sat backwards on his head. Kent’s hair was poking out from the sides of the hat, it was the most unkempt that Josh had ever seen Kent.

Kent’s usually tan skin was blotchy with red flushes that Josh assumed were from excess alcohol consumption. As Josh stood from the floor he noticed that the top of Kent’s foot was bleeding, it didn’t look too deep or messy, but it could stand to be bandaged.

Josh looked behind Kent and into the apartment, broken glass littered the floor and it looked like far too much for the two broken glasses that Josh had just heard crash to the floor.

Kent swept his arms down his body, “There. You see me. You can tell Jack I’m alive and go home now.”

Josh sighed and took a step forward, “You look terrible, Parson.”

Kent glared at him, “Yeah, well so do you.”

Josh though back to his reflection and shrugged, because yeah, Kent was right.

“Can I come in?” Josh asked, “You look like you could use some help.”

“Go awaaaaaaay.” Kent groaned, “Why are you here? You don’t even like me!”

Josh was taken aback by that. He and Kent certainly weren’t best friends, but he couldn’t recall ever doing anything that would make Kent think that Josh didn’t like him.

Josh was only in his second year with the Aces, Kent was his captain and they had what Josh assumed was the usual Captain-team member relationship. Kent had his group of close friends on the team, and Josh had his. There wasn’t much of a crossover, but it didn’t seem like there had to be.

Kent stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, and stared at Josh silently.

“Parson.” Josh said.

Kent remained silent, choosing to glare at Josh.

Josh shook his head. He could easily pick Kent up and move him out of the way, but Josh would never put his hands on someone like that, especially in their own house.

Josh ran a hand though his hair, no doubt fucking it up more than it already was, “Kent, just let me help.”

Kent’s blinked suddenly, as if he was surprised that Josh had used his first name, and leaned forward like he was studying Josh. Josh held Kent’s eyes for a few more seconds while Kent narrowed his before stepping aside.

“Whatever.” Kent said, turning his back to the door and walking deeper into the apartment.

It was as good of an invitation as Josh could expect to receive so he stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him and locking the five deadbolts. He pulled out his phone to send Jack a quick text letting him know he was at Kent’s and Kent was fine.

Josh stepped around the piles of broken glass, which turned out to be about six shattered scotch glasses, and found Kent standing on his balcony. He watched as Kent pulled the snapback off of his head, looked at it for a moment, and then tossed it over the edge.

Josh moved a little quicker to get to the sliding glass door, “Why don’t you come inside?”

Kent scoffed and turned to look at Josh. He somehow looked better now that the hat was off but the wind from their high altitude blew though Kent's and unsettled it again.

“You think I’m gonna jump or something?” Kent rolled his eyes.

Josh shook his head, he didn’t think Kent had that in mind but he also didn’t trust Kent’s motor functions.

“No Kent,” Josh said, “but I don’t trust your drunk ass not to trip and stumble over the railing so would you please come inside?”

Kent cocked his head to the side and looked at Josh again. Another gust of wind blew and tousled Kent’s hair before he shrugged and pushed himself away from the railing and towards Josh. Josh watched as Kent walked with a limp, he stepped aside as Kent got to the sliding door and turned around to lock it once Kent was back inside the apartment.

“I hated that hat.” Kent said as he leaned against the island in the middle of his kitchen.

“I figured since you threw it overbard,” Josh said, “it didn’t go with your tan anyway.”

Kent’s eyes went wide before he thrust his fist in the air, “Thank you! It made me look like a washed-out Oompa Loompa.”

Josh smirked, “I mean, I wasn’t going to put it in those-”

Josh was cut off by a sniffling sound from across the kitchen. He took a step forward, closer to Kent, and saw that Kent was crying. He was trying to do it silently, but there were obvious tears streaming down his face. Josh was torn between saying something or politely ignoring it when Kent spoke again.

“Mark loved the hat,” Kent said, “he told me it made me look sexy and he loved seeing pictures of me wearing it.”

Shit.

Josh didn’t know what to say. He knew that Mark was Kent’s ex, the ex that leaked those recordings of conversations Kent that were the cause of everything that had happened in the last two weeks.

“I guess now I know he just liked making me look like an idiot,” Kent said, beginning to cry harder, “you don’t know how many Instagram comments I got telling me that hat made me look like a deranged orangutan but he told me to ignore them.”

Jesus, this Mark sounded like a fucking monster.

Kent’s foot was still bleeding, and Josh could see him wince every time he took a step. He grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels that had appeared out of nowhere from Kent’s hand and placed it on top of the fridge before turning around and looking at Kent.

“You need to do something about your foot.” Josh shook his head, “Do I even want to know how you did that?”

Kent laughed, “I accidentally dropped a glass on it. Then I thought it was kinda cool how the glass broke when it hit the floor, so I broke another one.”

“And then you broke four more?” Josh asked.

Kent shook his head, “Glasses three though six were accidents, those things are fucking expensive man.”

Josh looked at the rack of glasses on Kent’s bar, they didn’t look any fancier than the set of glasses that Josh had gotten on sale last week at Homegoods.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” Josh asked.

“Huh?” Kent looked confused.

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose, “For your foot, you don’t want it to get infected.”

Kent tried to wave him away, “S’fine, I’ll just pour vodka on it or something.”

Josh stared at Kent, “Kent, first aid kit. Where?”

Kent grumbled for a few more seconds before he edged around Josh, purposely ramming him with his shoulder, and dropped down onto the white couch in his living room, “First bathroom on the left.”

Josh felt fine leaving Kent alone momentarily and made his way down the hall to find the bathroom.

Kent’s first bathroom on the left was about as big as Josh’s bedroom in his apartment and it took him a few minutes to go through all the drawers and find the med kit. When he did find it, he saw it hadn’t ever been opened. He used a pair of nail clippers to cut the shrink wrap away from the box and then popped it open to check the expiration dates on everything inside.

When he was satisfied that everything inside was god enough to use Josh made his way back to the living room. Kent was still in his spot on the couch, his head tipped back on a pillow and his eyes closed.

“Kent.” Josh said from a few feet away so he didn’t startled him.

 “Present.” Kent said, raising his hand like he was in school.

Josh pulled a white ottoman from the corner of the room in front of Kent’s couch and sat down on it.

“Give me your foot.” Josh said.

Kent cracked open one eye and looked at him, “What?”

Josh held up the first aid kit, “Were you planning on bandaging yourself?”

Kent’s other eye opened and he looked momentarily surprised, but it was like he quickly wiped the expression from his face and replaced it with something more venomous and guarded.

“You sure you want to touch the fag?” Kent glared at him.

Josh’s stomach dropped. He fucking hated that word.

“Hey!” Josh said.

Kent wouldn’t look at him so Josh flicked him on the knee.

“What the fuck?” Kent yelped.

“Don’t say that.” Josh said.

Kent rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I know what everyone is saying about me.”

Josh sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face, “Fuck everyone else.”

“Even the team?” Kent challenged.

“Huh?” Josh shook his head, “No one on the team has called you that, at least that I know of. Everyone is supportive of you.”

Kent shrugged, “Maybe in public, because they were threatened to by management.”

They weren’t threatened, per say, they were just told to not speak negatively to any press and if they did that their would be consequences come next season. Still, it seemed like everyone on the team genuinely supported Kent.

“Regardless,” Josh said, “don’t say that word. I don’t like it.”

“Huh.” Kent huffed, but eventually put his foot up on the ottoman.

“Thank you.”

Josh opened the kit and pulled out the alcohol pads. He didn’t bother telling Kent it was going to sting before he tore one open and wiped it over the wound. Kent hissed for a second but didn’t try to pull his foot away.

Kent’s entire body was tense. Josh felt for him, he hated being vulnerable in front of people himself and he could only imagine what was going through Kent’s head right now.

“My first pair of skates were girl’s skates.” Josh said as he squeezed the tube of disinfectant onto Kent’s foot.

Kent looked up at Josh with questioning eyes.

Josh rubbed the disinfectant in with a swab while he continued talking.

“I stole them from Goodwill when I was four. They were only like $5 but we didn’t even have that to spare when I was growing up and I really wanted to skate on the frozen pond outside our house during winter.”

Kent didn’t speak as Josh pulled out a roll of gauze and undid it.

“I told my mom that I found them outside a house on my walk home from school and that there was a sign that said free to a good home. She was fine with it because it gave me something to do during the day that didn’t bother her or cost any money. They were white and with pink laces and they had these terrible glitter hearts on the back, but I didn’t give a fuck because I finally got to skate across the ice like I’d been dying to.”

Josh lifted Kent’s foot and wrapped the gauze around it. Kent’s eyes never left Josh’s face.

“The first time my dad saw me with them on, he lost his mind. I tried not to let it bother me at first because I was a kid and I was finally having fun, but every time he saw me with the skates on he would call me that word. I skated on that pond any chance I could get, and I wasn't able to get another pair of skates until I was six.”

Josh swallowed the lump in his throat and taped down the gauze on Kent’s foot so it wouldn’t slip off. He tapped the top of Kent's foot a few times before letting it go. Kent pulled his leg back and crossed it over the top of his other leg.

Josh leaned back on the ottoman and looked at the ceiling, “That’s why I don’t like that word.”

“Sorry.” Kent said, his voice barely above a whisper.

An awkward beat of silence passed.

Josh cleared his throat, “It’s cool.”

Josh had only ever told that story to one other person, and that was his therapist, but he felt like he at least owed Kent something for being so vulnerable around him. Granted, Kent was drunk. Maybe that was part of the reason that Josh told Kent, because Kent probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway.

Kent suddenly let out a yawn, startling Josh and causing him to do the same. Kent’s eyes were closed when Josh looked back at him, he pulled out his phone and groaned when he saw it was past 2am.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Josh said, standing up and stretching his hand out to Kent.

“Bed sounds good.” Kent mumbled and grabbed Josh’s hand.

Josh pulled Kent up from the couch and put his hands on Kent’s shoulders to steady him.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Josh asked.

Kent shook his head, “Don’t wanna sleep in there.”

Josh didn’t ask why; the reason was pretty obvious.

“Where have you been sleeping?” Josh asked.

“Guest bedroom,” Kent flapped his hand in the direction of the hallway, “first door past the bathroom.”

Josh followed behind Kent and stopped just outside the door that Kent went through.

The large bed in the center of the room was unmade, and Kent’s cat was asleep on one of the pillows strewn across the bed. Kent smiled stupidly when he saw her and crawled onto the bed and pressed his nose into the base of her neck while he scratched under her chin.

Josh might have cracked a small smile himself as he watched them.

“You good?” Josh asked.

Kent looked up from his love fest with Kit, “Not really, but I’ll survive.”

Josh was taken aback by the honestly of it, but Kent crawled under the blankets and pulled Kit into cuddling with him without a second thought. Josh turned the light off, closed the door, and backed out into the hallway.

Kent’s living area was still a mess with glass littering the floor, Josh opened what he thought was the pantry and let out a relieved sigh when he found a broom and dust pan. It only took him a few minutes to sweep all the glass into a pile and into the dust pan. He dropped the mess into the nearby trash can and looked out over the living room.

The couch looked incredibly comfortable, and Josh was too exhausted to even think about driving back to his apartment that late, so he found the set of light switches and flicked them all off regardless of what they controlled. Josh made his way over to the couch in the dark and grabbed the soft throw blanket from the back, pulling it on top of himself as he sank into the plush cushions.

Josh sent a quick text to Kelly, letting him know he was staying at his friends house and that he wouldn’t be home until later in the morning. Kelly had adjusted to living with Josh and his odd schedule quickly, but he still liked to let his brother know so he didn’t worry.

Josh drifted off to sleep quicker on Kent’s couch than he did in his own bed, but he wrote it off as a side effect from the pure exhaustion he felt.


	2. Hope I didn't but I think I might've

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing TW worthy in this chapter, just Kent being a mess.
> 
> chapter title from Britney Spears' Blur

 

 

 

 

Two

Hope I didn't but I think I might've 

Kent woke up in the morning with a throbbing headache. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking, and then rolled to his side. It took him a moment to realize where he was, the unfamiliar nightstand in the guest room had tripped him up every morning he’d woken up in there. Kent briefly toyed with the idea of moving his nightstand into the guest room until he was able to get a new bed for the master bedroom, but his pounding headache cut off any idea of that before a plan fully formed.

Something on the nightstand drew Kent’s eye. He sat up and pulled himself closer and leaned in to find two aspirin sitting next to a half empty glass of water.

“What the fuck?” Kent mumbled to himself.

He didn’t remember setting them out for himself before he passed out. There had been times before when Kent was kind to himself and sat out a glass of water and aspirin ahead of time for his hungover self in the morning, but the Kent who had existed lately was not kind to himself.

Rather than look gift aspirin in the mouth, Kent shrugged and swallowed the two pills and the entire glass of water before collapsing back into bed. Kent hissed in pain when his head hit the pillow, it was like someone hit him on both sides of the head with a cast iron skillet at the same time.

Kent’s pillow cost $500, it wasn’t supposed to make him feel like a ferret was trying to crawl out of his eye socket.

Kent pulled the blanket up over his head and squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the rest of the world. He ignored the churning in his stomach, the ringing in his ears, and the strange pain he felt in his foot for some reason. Kent was content to just lay in bed all day and hide from the world, it was what he’d been doing for the last two weeks so why would he change now.

Except.

Oh holy fuck.

It all came back to Kent in flashes.

He called Jack crying and then hung up on Jack. Jack got worried and called…someone to come check on Kent.

Kent wracked his brain…who the fuck was it? It wasn’t Jeff, Kent knew that for sure.

Kent had been such a fucking asshole to Jeff that he wouldn’t expect Jeff to ever come to his rescue again.

And then, like lighting.

Jack called _Soup_.

Kent sprung out of bed, barely fighting off vomiting from the sudden movement, and stumbled to the door.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Kent limped down the hallway.

His foot was bandaged. How did that happ-

 _No_.

Kent came to a stop at the edge of his living room. There on his couch was Josh Campbell. Soup.

Kent’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of all 6’1 of Soup’s muscular frame curled up on his couch with Kit stretched out on his stomach.

That _traitor_.

Kent watched in silence as Soup dangled a toy above Kit’s head, Kit’s favorite toy that Kent had been trying to find for _weeks_ and said something to her so softly that Kent couldn’t hear it from across the room.

Kit looked like she was having the time of her life. Kit’s eyes were blown wide and her tail furiously fanned back and forth as the reached up to swipe at the dangling ball on the string. She’d almost reach it, just for Soup to pull it out of her grasp at the last second.

Kit was tenacious though, she never gave up once she set her mind to something. Kent watched as she stood on Soup’s chest and sat back on her haunches, eyes on the ball as Soup slowly let it drift back and forth. Kit’s ear twitched once before she sprung into the air and latched onto the ball with her teeth, twisting backwards before she landed on the floor on all fours.

Kit ducked under the couch and ran towards Kent, winding through his feet and disappearing further back into the apartment. No doubt to lose the toy again.

Just as Kent was about to say something, Soup’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Soup answered on the first ring.

Kent watched as Soup listened, then Soup rolled onto his side and held the phone above his head while he shoved his face into the pillow and groaned. Kent had to fight back a smile.

Soup pulled the phone back down to his ear, “Seriously, Kelly? I’ve told you this a million times.”

Soup was quiet for a few seconds.

Kelly? Did Soup have a girlfriend that Kent didn’t know about? It honestly wouldn’t surprise him, there’d been a lot of things he’d missed out on recently.

“My literal one request when we moved in was that you remember the alarm code, so you wouldn’t have to call me ten times a day to ask it. It’s five numbers, Kell.”

Kent’s eyebrows drew together, Soup was kind of an asshole to his girlfriend.

Soup laughed suddenly, “Kelly, you’re not putting the alarm code on a sticky note _next to_ the alarm panel. Do you want out potential robbers to be able to turn the alarm off themselves?”

Soup laughed again.

“Fine, I’ll text it to you.”

Silence.

“Love you too, kid.”

Kent cocked his head to the side, who called their girlfriend kid? Unless Soup was one of those skeezy athletes who dated girls who had just turned 18 years old. Soup didn’t seem like the type, but then again Kent didn’t really know much about Soup.

Which was why it was so odd that Jack called him of all people. Were Jack and Soup like, undercover besties or something? And if so, how the fuck did Kent miss _that_ memo?

Soup sat up on the couch, stretching his arms above his head with his back to Kent. Soup let out a loud yawn before standing up and bending backwards to stretch again.

Kent ignored the way Soup’s shirt rode up a little, he was too tired and too emotionally fragile to admire aesthetics.

Soup turned and locked eyes with Kent immediately.

“If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.” Soup said with a small grin.

Kent groaned and ran a hand through his hair, “Stop talking so loud.”

Soup laughed, and Kent suspected it was purposely loud, “I’m surprised you’re even standing right now.”

In absence of anything else to say, Kent shrugged, “You’re still here.”

Something flashed across Soup’s face, but it was gone too quickly for Kent to figure out what it was, “I was planning on being gone before you woke up, but Kit distracted me.”

Kent shook his head quickly, he groaned and rubbed his temples before speaking, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…didn’t expect you to stay.”

“I didn’t think you’d even remember I was here.” Soup said.

Kent sighed, “It takes me a minute sometimes, but I always remember my drunken nights. For better or worse.”

Soup frowned, “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“Drinking to forget isn’t as fun when you remember it all the next day. Not that it stops me.”

Kent groaned, maybe that was a little too heavy for this early in the morning.

“What time is it?” Kent asked, he didn’t bother looking at the clock when he woke up.

Soup picked up his phone and turned the screen on, “It’s a little after 10am.”

“What time did I pass out?” Kent asked.

“Around two.” Soup said as he folded the throw blanket and sat it on the back of the couch.

Eight hours of sleep wasn’t so bad, all things considered.

“I’ll get out of your hair.” Soup said, “I’m glad you’re not totally dead right now.”

“Thanks,” Kent said, followed by, “You can stay for a bit. If you want.”

Soup raised a single eyebrow.

“I was going to order a fuck ton of food from the café down the street.” Kent said, “You can stay and eat if you want.”

Soup looked like he was trying to figure out if Kent was being serious.

Kent sighed, “Stay and eat some fucking waffles so I don’t owe you for taking care of my drunk ass last night.”

Soup rolled his eyes, “There’s the Parse I know.”

Kent glared at him, “Fuck you too.”

“Blueberry pancakes.” Was all Soup said before walking away from Kent and heading for the bathroom.

Kent was baffled by the lack of glass on the floor, he had a very vivid memory of breaking half of his collection of crystal whiskey glasses last night yet there was no evidence of it anywhere. Then Kent noticed the broom leaning against the side of the fridge, did Soup really clean up after him too?

Kent checked the trashcan and frowned when he saw a pile of glass sitting at the top.

Soup came back a few minutes later, after Kent had finished calling in a mammoth order of breakfast food. Kent called down to the doorman of his building to let them know it was OK to send someone up with the food and then turned around and looked at Soup.

His hair was wet but still unruly, like he’d tried to fix its mess with just some water and then gave up halfway thorough. Soups clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, and one of the legs of his sweatpants had ridden up his calf.

“I’d offer you something to change into but…” Kent trailed off and vaguely gestured to himself, and then at Soup, hoping he conveyed the message.

“Not a big deal, Parse.” Soup shrugged, “I’m sure your longest pair of sweats would look like hot pants on me.”

Kent glared at him before opening the fridge, “Whatever. You’re not that much taller than me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Soup said, sitting down at the furthest side of the island from Kent.

Kent rolled his eyes as he poured a glass of orange juice, he looked over his shoulder, “You want one?”

“Sure,” Soup said, “As long as it doesn’t turn into a mimosa. I still have to drive home.”

Kent groaned, “No. No more alcohol for at least a few days.”

Kent poured two glasses and slid Soup’s down the island towards him. Soup caught it before it fell off the edge and he raised the glass to his lips, taking a big sip. Kent didn’t watch the way Soup’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“A few days, huh?” Soup asked as he sat the glass down on the island.

“Listen,” Kent took a deep breath, “Last night was…not normal. I’m not like that, I’m not an alcoholic or whatever.”

Soup raised a single eye brow, no doubt thinking of Kent’s highly publicized DUI during his first year with the Aces.

“It’s just been a lot.” Kent said softly, “I needed to not function last night. Which I just realized sounds like something an alcoholic would say.”

Soup was quiet for a few seconds, he took a few more sips of orange juice before he spoke again, “I wasn’t judging you. I’m the last person who should be lecturing anyone on finding healthy coping mechanisms.”

Soup abruptly closed his mouth and averted his eyes from Kent. Kent wanted to follow up on that statement, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Food’s here.” Kent said instead as he stood and walked towards the door.

“Jesus, that was fast.” Soup said.

Kent shrugged, “I order from them a lot. Plus, I always tip 100% on the bill so they bring it to me pretty damn fast.”

Kent opened the door, smiled at his usual delivery guy, and signed his name and matched the tip with the total of the order. If Kent had any time to reflect, he’d think it was sad that one of the only people he trusted to let himself be seen by was his food delivery guy, but Kent didn’t think about that at all.

“Let me help.” Soup’s voice came from behind Kent.

Kent jumped, startled at Soup’s sudden proximity, and looked over his shoulder, “Jesus, make some noise when you walk.”

For someone so big, Soup made all the sound of a church mouse when he moved.

Soup rolled his eyes and reached around Kent to take two of the plastic bags in his hands, leaving the other two for Kent. Kent didn’t really get that, he could have easily carried all four bags by himself. Whatever. Soup was weird, what else was new.

Soup had both bags unloaded by the time Kent made it back to the kitchen and was already cutting into a stack of blueberry pancakes.

Kent cut into his omelet while Soup ate across from him, holding his breath. He was waiting for Soup to say something, anything about last night. He was waiting for Soup to call him a mess, to tell him he needed to get his shit together, to tell him he was sad and pathetic. But all Soup did was cut his pancakes into bite sized pieces before shoveling them into his mouth.

Kent only realized he was staring when Soup looked up at him and asked, “What?”

“I guess I’m just waiting for you to say something.” Kent said before he stuffed his mouth with food to stop himself from saying anything else.

“About?” Soup asked.

Kent just looked at him.

Soup sighed, “I figured you’d talk about it if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Oh.” Kent said.

“Did you want to talk about it.”

“No.”

“Eat your food then.”

Kent grumbled, but when he looked back at Soup his face was already turned down back towards his place. Whatever. If Soup didn’t want to make Kent talk, then Kent wouldn’t talk.

Except.

Kent couldn’t stop thinking about something from last night, and he couldn’t remember if it actually happened or if he’d dreamed it.

“Soup?” Kent asked.

“Yes, Parse?” Soup answered.

“Did I throw my hat off the balcony last night?”

Soup’s fork stopped clinking against his plate, and when Kent looked up Soup was looking directly at him.

“The ugly orange one?”

Kent nodded.

“Yes,” Soup said, “it was a whole moment.”

Kent groaned and dropped his head against the table, “I’m such a fucking mess.”

Soup laughed, “It was an ugly hat away.”

“Still…” Kent tried his hardest to not let his voice crack, he failed, “it was…”

“It was an ugly hat that you wanted to get rid of.” Soup said a little forcefully, surprising Kent.

Kent couldn’t say anything, he just kept his head down and avoided Soup’s eyes.

“Whoever found it tumbling down the strip probably needed it more than you anyway.” Soup said, “You’re better off without it.”

Soup stood up and walked to the sink. Kent watched as he rinsed off his plate and the placed it in the dishwasher along with the silverware. It struck Kent as odd, most of his teammates just piled things in the sink and left them for Kent’s housekeeper to deal with when she showed up the following day.

Soup stretched his arms above his head and leaned backwards, his shirt riding up a bit, “Anyway. Thanks for the food, I’ve got to get home though.”

“To your girlfriend?” Kent asked, against his better judgment.

Soup stopped and cocked his head to the side, “What?”

“Your girlfriend,” Kent waved his hands in front of himself, “I heard you on the phone with her this morning. Kelly. You should be nicer to her, by the way. You sounded like a dick on the phone.”

Soup’s face was a blank slate for a moment, and Kent held his breath as he waited for it to twist into anger, but he almost jumped back in surprise when Soup’s mouth split into a grin before he doubled over in laughter.

“You thought…” Soup said between gasps of air, “Kelly is my little brother, not my girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Kent said, _“Oh.”_

“Oh my god,” Soup kept laughing, “He’d die if he heard you say that. That is amazing. You’ve made my week, Parse.”

Kent felt his face heating up with an embarrassed blush and he turned his back to Soup so he wouldn’t see.

Soup’s laughter quieted after a few more seconds, and Kent only turned around when he heard the scrape of keys against the counter, “I do need to go make sure he didn’t destroy the place. Or leave the door unlocked. Again.”

“Again?” Kent’s eyes went wide.

Soup sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, “He just moved in a few weeks ago. It’s been…an adjustment.”

“How old is he?” Kent asked, he couldn’t believe he’d missed any talk of this. Well, he could believe it. Even before Kent went underground, he’d let his duties as a captain fall by the wayside.

“18.” Soup sighed.

Kent let out a long whistle, “Playing dad to an 18-year-old in Vegas sounds…fun?”

Soup flinched. It was almost undetectable, and Kent wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t looking directly at him, but it was there. Soup’s eyes went a little vacant, and he looked past Kent into space for a brief second before recovering.

“Something like that.” Soup said, flipping his key ring around his finger and quickly crossing to the living room and sliding his shoes on.

Kent was at a loss for words. He knew he’d said something wrong, but he didn’t know exactly what. He didn’t trust himself not to fuck up even more but pushing, so he stayed quiet.

“Thanks.” Kent finally said when Soup was halfway to the door of his apartment, “For last night. I mean, I know Jack called you. But still. Thanks.”

Soup looked over his shoulder and nodded, “No problem.”

Soup let himself out the door and Kent found himself alone again in a clean apartment that felt too big and too small at the same time.

 

 


	3. You want a piece of me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter can get a lil heavy. warning for vague references to past sexual abuse, inappropriate touching, panic attacks, anxiety. basically, this chapter is entirely an extended therapy session and deals with a lot of different topics lol

 

Three

You want a piece of me?

 

Josh tapped his foot against the hardwood floor of the waiting room. He was a creature of habit, and he sat in the same seat he’d sat in every time he’d been in the waiting room fsince his first visit. Josh knew the number of ceiling tiles by heart, he could count the planks of hardwood flooring with his eyes closed, and he knew exactly how many times the light on the receptionist’s computer could blink in a single minute if it was left unattended.

The answer, by the way, was 217.

Josh’s eyes flitted to the clock, his appointment was still a few minutes away, but he couldn’t help the flare of uneasiness he felt bubble in his chest as the hand of the clock ticked forward. He was getting better though, he’d come to look forward to the visits now, it was just the last few minutes before the door opened that Josh second-guessed his life choices.

Dr. Falana would no doubt have something to say about that.

As if she read his mind, and Josh still hadn’t ruled out that she could do that, Dr. Falana opened the door and smiled at Josh.

“Good afternoon, Josh.” Dr. Falana smiled.

Dr. LaTavia Falana was a statuesque woman, just a few inches shorter than Josh himself. Today she wore a bright yellow dress that stood out strikingly against her dark skin, and her hair was in it’s usual style, a naturally curly afro.

“Dr. Falana.” Josh nodded before he stood from his chair.

Dr. Falana glanced at the clock over Josh’s shoulder, “Your appointment isn’t for another few minutes, but we can get started early if you’d like?”

That settled it, she could totally read his mind.

“Sure.” Josh said as he set his phone to vibrate and shoved it in his pocket.

Dr. Falana held the door open for Josh, he thanked her as he walked past and his face split into a wide grin when he was greeted by a small bark as soon as Dr. Falana closed the door behind them.

Josh got on one knee, “Hey, Ein.”

Ein, Dr. Falana’s Pembroke Welsh Corgi, hopped up from his bed and pranced over to Josh. Ein braced himself against Josh’s knee and hopped in place as he tried to get to Josh’s face to no doubt cover him in saliva.

“Ein, down.” Dr. Falana said, though there was a slight hint of amusement to her voice.

Apparently, Ein didn’t greet all her patients this way. Josh would be lying if he’d said it didn’t make him feel a little special.

“It’s fine,” Josh said, scratching under Ein’s chin and smiling as he small foot thumped against the carpet, “I love my Ein time.”

Josh picked Ein up and turned him around to face the couch, stepping around the dog as he made his way to the same couch and sat down. Ein chased after him, hopping up on the couch as soon as Josh sat down and situating himself firmly in the center of Josh’s lap. Josh’s hand automatically went to the scruff at the nape of Ein’s neck and he carded his fingers through the fur as Dr. Falana grabbed her notebook and opened it.

Josh had been more than intimidated by her notebook during his first session two years ago. He spent the entire time tracking her hand, flinching whenever she looked away from him to make a note of something on her page. He’d censored himself then, scared that everything he’d said would be recorded and used against him.

It took him three weeks to build up the courage to schedule a second session, and when he showed up for his appointment Ein was there waiting for him. Ein had been at every single one of Josh’s appointments since.  

Dr. Falana explained to him that some people felt more comfortable with an animal in the room. Some, she said, brought their own pets, and for those who didn’t or couldn’t, she had Ein. Ein helped immensely, any time Josh felt his eyes drawn towards Dr. Falana’s notebook, he’d look down at Ein and focused on him.

Josh had always had nervous hands too, he never knew what to do with them when he was in a stressful situation. Ein was the perfect solution, he spent most of the visit petting Ein or just resting his hands on Ein’s back and letting the rise and fall of Ein’s breath distract from his own nervous energy.

“How have you been?” Dr. Falana asked.

She asked the same question first every single week, and every single week Josh had to think before he answered. Sometimes he’d been good, and sometimes he’d been bad.

“I’ve been fine,” Josh said, it was a neutral answer, “it sucked getting knocked out of the Cup, but I can’t lie and say that I haven’t enjoyed some extra down time.”

It was Josh’s third seasons with the Aces, and his body had taken a beating he wasn’t quite used to. He’d seriously played Hockey since high school, then through College on his scholarship before making it to the minor leagues, and then eventually being called up to the Aces, and Josh couldn’t remember a time in all of that where he’d ended a season as battered and bruised as he did this one.

So yeah, winning his second Cup would have been awesome, but getting a few extra weeks to rest his body? It was worth losing the cup.

Dr. Falana smiled, she knew the Josh that came to her two years ago never would have said something like that.

“How is the rest of your team taking it?” She asked.

Josh shrugged.

He didn’t really talk about the team in therapy unless it was directly related to something he was feeling. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dr. Falana, it was quite the opposite, it was just that Josh really didn’t have much to say about the team. No one was an asshole, everyone was generally respectful, and Josh preferred to use his hour for things other than talking about how he was annoyed by Armor for talking like Kermit The Frog for an entire five-hour flight.

Which is why Josh surprised himself when he said, “Parse is going through a rough time.”

If Dr. Falana noticed the surprise on Josh’s face, she didn’t say anything.

“Parse?” Dr. Falana repeated, “That’s Kent Parson, your captain?”

Josh nodded.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

Josh shrugged again, “It’s not really my place to talk about his personal life.”

Dr. Falana was quite for a moment, “Josh, you hardly ever bring up your teammates directly, if you’ve brought up Kent then it seems to me like there’s a reason for it, either consciously or subconsciously.”

Josh busied himself with scratching just above Ein’s nub of a tail and focused on the way Ein looked up at him with his droopy tongue hanging out of his mouth. Damn Dr. Falana and her observational prowess.

Ein licked Josh’s hand. Josh drew in a deep breath, and then spoke, “Do you pay attention to those terrible gossip sites?”

“I try not to.” Dr. Falana said, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Do you know anything about what’s happened to Parse?” Josh asked, “It would save time having to explain everything from the beginning.”

Dr. Falana smiled, “I’d like to hear you explain things in your own words, we should have time since I started a little early today.”

Josh was quite for a moment before he spoke, getting it all out in a fast rush, “He was dating this guy who turned out to be a psychopath. He recorded their conversations and then sold them to those bullshit sites when they broke up. It outed him and another NHL player that he used to date when he was younger, fucking up a ton of lives in the process.”

Dr. Falana nodded and wrote something down in her notebook. Josh looked away from her pen and down at Ein.

“Where do you fit into that?” She asked.

Josh tapped his foot, “The guy, the other NHL player, called me last week in the middle of the night. He talked to Kent and was worried about him, he asked me to go over to Kent’s and check on him.”

“And you went over?”

“Of course.” Josh said, “Who wouldn’t?”

Dr. Falana smiled, “Are you close with Kent?”

Josh shook his head, “Not really. I wouldn’t call us friend. We’re teammates.”

She nodded, “You’ve spoken about him before. Do you remember?”

Josh cocked his head to the side. He’d talked about Kent once from what he could remember, in his third session with Dr. Falana.

“Jesus,” Josh laughed, “How do you remember that?”

Dr. Falana laughed and then tapped her pen against her forehead, “It’s my job.”

Josh thought back to that session, to the early days with Dr. Falana, and shuddered.

Dr. Falana was his first real go at therapy. He’d finally been able to afford it after his first check from the Aces. He could have gone earlier, she would have been covered under the insurance that came with the minor league team he was on before the Aces, but Josh had been so terrified of his team finding out he was going to therapy that he’d chose to self-pay.

The early sessions with Dr. Falana were intense, more than even Josh expected. He remembered the one where he talked to her about Parse, about how after Josh earned his first Hat Trick on his third game with the Aces the entire locker room celebrated by slapping his ass whenever he walked by.

Josh was practiced at ignoring it after years of hard work burying it down, but something about being around an entirely new set of people in such an intense environment had gotten to Josh. He tried to play it off, laughed with the team, but the first second he was alone he’d felt like his lungs were being torn apart from the inside out. He searched for somewhere quite and lonely, and eventually ended up in a conference room on one of the lower floors of the Aces’ building.

He’d sat in there for what felt like hours, trying and failing to calm himself down, until the door opened. Josh tried to bolt in a panic and ran straight into Parse.

Parse, apparently, had been looking for him. Josh had wanted to kick himself, he’d thought he’d covered it up better than that, but Parse had seen right through him.

Josh had tried to ignore him, to play it off. But Parse stood his ground, pulled rank and told him that it was his job to make sure everyone was safe and felt comfortable.

Josh remembered the look in Parse’s eyes, how they looked so sincere and honest. How it felt like, maybe, just maybe, he could trust this guy he’d barely talked to outside of the rink.

So, Josh took a deep breath, looked over Parse’s shoulder, and told him he didn’t like it when people touched him like that.

Parse didn’t say anything at first, and Josh couldn’t look at his face out of fear of what he’d find. Eventually, Parse just said OK. Josh’s eyes snapped to him and Parse smiled with that stupid, lopsided grin of his, and said that it was time that those assholes learned some manners anyway.

Josh had felt the weight life off his chest almost instantly, and he’d relaxed back into the chair. Parse sat with him a little while longer, they’d turned on the TV and watched the highlights of another game, and the next day no one acted differently towards him.

Josh hadn’t been touched in the locker room to this day.

Ein barked, and Josh blinked a few times. When he looked back up at Dr. Falana, she was smiling.

“Welcome back.” Dr. Falana said, “What were you thinking about.”

Josh ran his hand over Ein’s back, there was no use in lying, “The first time I talked about Parse.”

She nodded, “Did you want to re-visit that?”

Josh shook his head.

“Ok, then tell me about what happened when you went to check on Kent.”

Josh huffed out a laugh, “He was a mess, drunk off his ass, broken glass everywhere, his foot cut up all to shit. He threw his hat off the balcony.”

Dr. Falana smiled, “Did everything turn out OK?”

Josh shrugged and shifted on the couch, causing Ein to glare at him before resettling himself back on Josh’s lap.

“I made sure he didn’t trip and fall of his balcony, took care of his foot, and made sure he got to bed and didn’t choke on his vomit. And then I passed out on his couch.”

Dr. Falana wrote something in her notebook before looking back up, “You fell asleep at someone else’s apartment.”

Josh sighed, he knew that one was coming, “It was like 3am, I was tired as shit.”

“It’s a good thing,” Dr. Falana said, “You’re comfortable enough around Kent to fall asleep in his home.”

“It was late, I would have fallen asleep anywhere.”

Dr. Falana just looked at him.

“Whatever,” Josh grunted, pulling Ein closer, “I already told you I barely have a relationship with Parse outside of the team.”

“Regardless of any outside relationship, you’re still comfortable enough to fall asleep in his apartment. Maybe it stems from your past conversations with him, or the times when he’s respected and enforced your boundaries. Why does it bother you when I say you’re comfortable with Kent?”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Josh said automatically.

“Josh,” Dr. Falana put down her notebook and pen and leaned forward in her chair, “Be honest with me, why does it upset you when I say that?”

Josh flinched away from her gaze, looking down at Ein instead. He held his hand out and Ein dragged his tongue across Josh’s palm.

“Because I feel like you’re insinuating something that isn’t there.” Josh said, never taking his eyes off Ein.

“Josh,” Dr. Falana’s voice was soft, “you know I don’t insinuate things. I only asked about Kent because you so rarely bring up anyone other than yourself of your brother.”

Josh knew she was right, he knew he was overreacting, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Sorry.” Josh mumbled.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Dr. Falana said, “Would you like to talk about something else?”

Josh looked back up and met her eyes. Dr. Falana was smiling, her notebook still closed and sitting at her side.

Josh nodded. He was grateful that Dr. Falana knew when to push him, and when to pull back. Josh had completely shut down a few times during their sessions whenever she pushed him too hard on a certain topic. He’d spend the remainder of their time in silence, not looking at her and focusing only on Ein until her timer went off and he left.

He hadn’t had a moment like that in a while, but for some reason the topic of Parse was pushing him towards one. Apparently, Dr. Falana could tell too.

“How is Kelly?” Dr. Falana asked.

Josh frowned, as far as subject changes went this one wasn’t that much easier to talk about.

“His nightmares are getting worse. I could hear him screaming bloody murder from my room the other night, I haven’t been that scared in a long time.”

Dr. Falana frowned, “Would he talk about it?”

“No,” Josh sighed, “I woke him up like usual, he cried, we ate some cereal in the middle of the night, and then he went back to sleep without talking about it.”

“Have you tried to see what he thinks about talking to someone other than you again?”

Josh shook his head, “Not since the last time.”

“Why not?” Dr. Falana asked.

“Because the last time I suggested he go to therapy he didn’t talk to me for three days.”

Josh and Kelly had both taken away different things from their father. Josh got a lot of self-loathing and Kelly got his aversion to therapists. Josh understood, for the most part, he’d even faced the same ideas in his own head when he decided he wanted to go to therapy. His fathers voice was always in the back of his head, calling him weak and less of a man because he needed to pay someone to cry to them.

Kelly had inherited those thoughts too. The first time Josh had suggested that Kelly maybe talk to someone, which was a few days after he’d officially moved to Vegas to live with Josh, Kelly had gotten so offended that he didn’t talk to Josh for a few days afterwards.

“You still haven’t told him you’re in therapy, I assume.” Dr. Falana asked.

“No.” Josh shook his head.

That was another issue that the two of them went back and forth over. Kelly was all the family that Josh had left, he’d do anything for his brother, and he was terrified of how Kelly would see him if he’d told him that he was in therapy, let alone _why_ he was in therapy. Josh had always been the protector, the big brother who kicked ass and didn’t take shit from anyone, Kelly was in such a fragile place after their mother’s death that Josh just couldn’t risk shaking him anymore.

Dr. Falana, naturally, didn’t agree. She’d told Josh countless times now that Josh was letting his own insecurities hold him back and that it would end up being a detriment to his brother and their relationship. But Josh just couldn’t lose his brother, he didn’t know what he would do without that stupid, smart mouth kid.

“Do you really think Kelly would just abandon you?” Dr. Falana asked.

Josh sighed and played with one of Ein’s feet, “No. I don’t think he would move out and leave me, but things wouldn’t be the same, he wouldn’t trust me or talk to me like he does now.”

“You’re catastrophizing.” Dr. Falana said, “You’re creating the worst possible scenario in your head instead of thinking about how good things could be if you talked to Kelly. You don’t have to tell him why you’re in therapy or what you talk about, but have you ever thought that maybe Kelly is waiting for someone tell him that talking to someone isn’t weak, that it doesn’t make him less of a man, that there isn’t anything wrong with him because he needs to talk to someone about the things in his head? Who better to tell him that than the big brother he's looked up to his entire life? Wouldn’t you have wanted someone to tell you that when you were his age?”

Josh didn’t realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit the top of Ein’s head. Ein look up in surprise, and stood up, bracing his stubby legs on Josh’s chest, and licked Josh on the cheek. Josh let out a watery laugh, rubbing the top of Ein’s head until he sat back down with his head on Josh’s knee.

The curious thing about therapy, Josh had discovered, was that sometimes you felt worse after it than you did before going in.

“I’m such an asshole.” Josh said, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“No.” Dr. Falana said immediately, “You’re dealing with a decades of trust issues and repressed feelings, it doesn’t make you an asshole or a terrible brother because you’re scared of talking to Kelly. After your mother’s death, you’re the only two left. It’s natural that you’re afraid of doing anything to disrupt your relationship, but you can’t move forward, and you can’t heal unless you take risks. That goes for both of you.”

Dr. Falana handed Josh a tissue, he wiped at his eyes, then his nose, and balled it up in his hand.

“Would you feel more comfortable if you started your conversation with Kelly with a hypothetical?” Dr. Falana asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The next time Kelly gets upset, or has a nightmare,” Dr. Falana began, “bring up the idea of therapy with him again. If he gets angry, or says something that hurts you, ask him if he’d think any less of you if you were in therapy. That opens up the idea of you in therapy, without telling him exactly. Then you can gauge his reaction. If Kelly tells you that only people who are weak go to therapy, as him if he’d think you were weak if you were in therapy. Just see what he says, Josh. You never know, he may surprise you.”

Josh…had never thought of that.

“Is that homework?” Josh asked.

Dr. Falana laughed, “No. Go at your own pace, but promise me that you’ll at least think about it.”

Josh took a deep breath, and then nodded, “OK.”

The timer on Dr. Falana’s table went off. She smiled, reached over to turn it off, and then folded her notebook closed and sat it down before standing.

“How do you feel?” It was the same question she’d asked him at the end of their sessions for the last two years.

“Tired.” Josh said honestly, “A little scared.”

Ein jumped down from the couch as Josh stood, trotting after him as he headed for the door. Josh stopped, dropped to his knees, and smiled as Ein flipped over on his back and waited for his belly rub. When Ein wasn’t paying attention, Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out a small treat he’d brought for Ein. Ein’s eyes lit up and he stood, sitting and waiting patiently for Josh to give him the treat.

“You spoil him too much.” Dr. Falana laughed as Ein plucked the treat from between Josh’s fingers.

Josh grinned as Ein chomped the treat, “Ein’s just as much my therapist as you are, he deserves some form of payment.”

Dr. Falana reached down and rubbed between Ein’s ears, “I’ll see you this time next week?”

Josh nodded, “Yeah.”

“Good,” Dr. Falana smiled, “my phone is always open if you need anything in the meantime.”

Josh nodded, thanked her, said another goodbye to Ein, and made his way towards the elevator.

Josh always used the elevator ride to decompress, to gather his thoughts as he descended towards the first floor. This was the first session in a while where he’d walked away feeling raw and exposed, and he’d barely talked about himself at all. That part made Josh feel even more uncertain as to what all was going on.

The Vegas sun was high in the sky. Josh squinted as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, pushing his sunglasses down to shield his eyes. Josh pulled out his phone and wasn’t surprised to find he had no notifications. Kelly was out shopping, getting an early start on school supplies for his first semester at UNLV. They’d briefly argued about Josh paying for things he’d need, like a new computer, but Josh told Kelly that he’d just buy it for him anyway, so Kelly should at least go out and get the one he wanted.

Josh didn’t do much with his money, a biproduct of growing up without any, but he loved to make sure the people he cared about had everything they needed.

As Josh walked to his car, a city bus passed in front of him. A bus with Parse’s face plastered on the side.

Josh stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t spoken to Parse in a week or so, since the morning he’d left his apartment. Josh had texted him, asking how he was doing, but Parse never replied.

Josh thought back to what Dr. Falana had said about Kelly, about how maybe Kelly was waiting for someone tell him it was OK to talk to someone. Josh wondered if anyone had ever told that to Parse, or if Parse was just going to continue to self-medicate himself with expensive alcohol while locked in his ivory tower of an apartment.

Maybe it was the lingering effects of his session, or maybe it was the sun driving him a little crazy, but Josh found his way to his nonexistent text chain with Parse and typed out a message, quickly hitting send.

To Parse: Hey, feel up to some company?

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. She’s gonna step outside, uncover her eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kent chapter - a few brief references to a mentally abusive relationship, but nothing major other than that

 

 

 

 

Four

She’s gonna step outside, uncover her eyes

 

Kent was struck at how odd his apartment looked upside down. It was weird seeing the space he’d lived in for the last few years from a new perspective, and it was even weirder when Kit pranced across the room and looked up at Kent like he was the most curious thing on the planet.

Which, to be fair, he was hanging upside down the middle of his living room.

Kit reached up with one paw and batted Kent on the nose.

Kent huffed out a laugh, “Not now princess, daddy is trying to work on his fitness.”

Kit was undeterred, and she reached up again, bopping Kent on the nose for a second time.

Kent laughed, which he discovered wasn’t as fun when you were hanging upside down by your ankles, and tried to focus on his work out.

Kent had woken up that morning, and on a whim, he’d unboxed the inverted sit up bar he’d purchased on a late-night QVC binge a few months ago. It took him a few minutes how to figure out to hang up, and a few more to figure out how to actually get himself into it, but Kent was suspended from a banister in his living room within a fifteen minutes.

Kit had been endlessly fascinated with him all morning. She’d been sitting on the arm of the couch, tracking Kent’s body like she watched the birds that sometimes landed on their balcony as he worked on his abs for the last half hour.

Sometimes, when Kent was feeling even more lonely than usual, he’d wonder what would happen to Kit if he died and no one knew about it. He’d read too many stories about little old women who’d died and when they were found their body was partially eaten by the army of cats that they’d had. Would Kit eat Kent? Kent liked to think he’d make a good meal, he certainly had the body for it, but he wondered if his bond with Kit would outweigh that? Could Kit really eat him?

Kent would have said no, but the way Kit was watching him as he worked out made Kent question that.

Kent groaned and reached up to the bar, unfastening his ankles and swinging himself backwards until he was back on solid ground again. He reached for a nearby towel and scrubbed it over his face as he thought about how fucked up it was he was imagining his decomposed body being eaten by his cat.

He grabbed a bottle of water and downed half of it before tossing Kit a few treats, possibly to remind her who provided for him and thus would not be around if she decided to eat him in the middle of the night.

Kit happily wound her way around Kent’s ankles, brushing her tail against his shins as she ate the treats in three separate bites. Kent smiled down at her, there was no way Kit would ever eat him.

And with that, Kent decided he really needed to get out of his apartment.

The balcony door was open, the sound of the street below drifting up and into the apartment. Kent lived close enough to the strip that he could hear most of the commotion, and it was exactly how he liked it. He hated the quiet, couldn’t stand it when the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heart beating.

Kent stepped outside and leaned against the railing, letting the sunlight beat against his skin. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day that shouldn’t be wasted hiding inside no matter how upset and reclusive you’re feeling.

Kent wasn’t quite sure he was ready to make a formal appearance back in the land of the living, there was no doubt in his mind that there was at least one asshole paparazzi posted outside of his building at all times trying to get the first shot of post-outed Kent Parson, and he didn’t think he could face that without breaking the guys camera. Or his nose.

Maybe Jack’s little outburst had inspired him.

But just because Kent couldn’t leave his building, it didn’t mean there wasn’t places he could go. He lived in a luxury high rise, a luxury high rise with a rooftop pool.

That settled it, Kent was going to put on his big boy pants, go upstairs and have a few fruity drinks with umbrellas in them as he roasted in the sun. He wasn’t too worried about anyone in his building trying to sneak any pictures of him, it wasn’t like any of the residents of the building needed the extra cash something like that would bring and he doubted they would risk their standing in the building by bringing in a guest that would.

With that settled, Kent went back inside, closing and locking the balcony door behind him, and made his way to his bathroom. He quickly showered off the funk from his work out and then moved through his bedroom on autopilot, his eyes avoiding any left over mementos that would sour his random good mood and pulled a bright pair of trunks out of his bottom drawer.

They were his favorite, neon yellow and pink that cut off right in the middle of his thighs and hugged his ass perfectly. He’d been photographed in them a few times on the beach and no one ever had anything negative to say about them.

No one except Mark.

Mark _hated_ the shorts. He told Kent that they made him look like he was begging for attention because of their bright color. He told Kent that they made him look like a slut who was showing off something that didn’t belong to anyone else but Mark.

Kent swallowed the rising taste of bile in his throat and wadded the trunks into a ball before throwing them back into the drawer. He exchanged them for an old and faded navy-blue pair that had ugly white embroidered anchors on them. Kent hated them, he always felt like he should be wearing boat shoes while going by the name Kenneth Parson IV when wearing them.

Kent pulled them on and quickly made his way back into the living room, trying not to let the memories of Mark dampen his otherwise good mood. He was succeeding, barely, when his phone buzzed on the counter.

Kent groaned, the only people who texted him lately were his manager, his agent, his publicist, his lawyer, and occasionally Jack. Kent knew it wasn’t Jack, Jack didn’t talk to anyone when he was preparing for a big game, and the only time the rest of them contacted Kent lately it was because another massive shit of something bad had happened.

Kent wasn’t in the mood for it, but he figured it would be better to get it out of the way, so he could continue with the rest of his stress-free day afterwards.

The last thing Kent expected to see when he picked his phone up was a text from Soup.

 

From Soup: Hey, feel up to some company?

 

Kent held his phone and stared at it like it was an alien. Why was Soup texting him? Why was Soup texting him to _hang out_? Kent hadn’t spoken to him in over a week, not since Soup showed up in the middle of the night to pull Kent’s drunken ass together. He knew that Soup only came because Jack had asked him to, it wasn’t like the two of them were going to form some awesome new friendship or anything. But it was still a little weird that Kent hadn’t heard anything from Soup in over a week until this random text.

 A small part of Kent had hoped that maybe Soup would start coming around more often. Soup was the kind of guy who didn’t pry, and Kent could use someone like that. Someone to just hang out with without having to worry about how he was acting, if he was smiling enough so they wouldn’t think he was upset. Soup didn’t push, and Kent liked that.   

Kent almost decided to be petty and ignore it, to pretend like he never even saw the text. But he remembered Soup talking about his brother and how big of a change it had been for him since he'd moved in, and Kent realized that maybe he was being a selfish asshole.

Instead of texting, Kent swiped the message opened and then hit Soup’s contact info to call him.

“Hello?” Soup answered on the third ring.

“Hi.” Kent said.

“Hi?” Soup sounded confused.

“What’re you doing?” Kent asked.

Why the fuck was he so awkward.

“I’m standing on the side walk waiting for my Uber.” Soup said.

Kent cocked his head to the side, “Why are you waiting for an Uber?”

Soup had a car. Or, rather, Soup had a huge Jeep because he barely fit in actual cars. Kent remembered seeing him pull up to the rink the day he bought it, remembered how proud Soup looked and thinking how good Soup looked when he smiled a real, genuine smile.

Soup laughed, “Is this 20 questions?”

“Sorry.” Kent shook his head, “Ignore me.”

“Kelly has my Jeep today, he’s out at some school introduction thing with a few friends he’s made.”

“And you’re stuck riding around town stuffed into an Uber?” Kent smiled at the thought of Soup crunched in some suburban moms Kia.

“I made sure I got an SUV.” Soup said, and Kent was pretty sure he was rolling his eyes.

“Was your text serious?” Kent asked, changing the subject.

Soup was quiet for a second, “Why wouldn’t my text be serious?”

Kent shrugged, “Dunno, dude. Maybe you were just trying to be nice, or maybe Jack put you up to babysitting me again.”

“You’re exhausting.” Soup mumbled, Kent wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear that or not, “Of course it was serious. I just left…an appointment and I don’t have anything else to do for the rest of the day. I haven’t talked to you since the other night so I wanted to see how you were, and if you needed anyone to hang out with.”

Kent narrowed his eyes, “I don’t _need_ anyone to hang out with.”

“I guess that answers my question then.” Soup let out a long breath of air.

Kent was pretty sure he was about to be hung up on, which he didn’t blame Soup for. Kent would have hung up on himself too. Soup was trying to be a friend, trying to do what Kent had expected him to do in the first place, and here Kent was trying to push him away when he _wanted_ to hang out with Soup.

“Wait!” Kent rushed out before Soup hung up, “I’m sorry, I’m being a dick.”

“At least you’re aware.” Soup said, sounding amused.

Kent rolled his eyes, “I was about to head up to the pool on my roof. Come. If you want.”

Kent wondered if maybe he should change his plans for the day. Soup didn’t exactly seem like the sit poolside and drink frilly cocktails kind of guy.

“Oh.” Soup said, “Uh.”

“It’s fine,” Kent shook his head, “you don’t have to hang out. Or we can do something else. I just figured it was a nice day and I’m tired of being cooped up in my apartment.”

“It is a nice day.” Soup said, “I…yeah. I have to go home and get something to wear though, I’m not really pool ready.”

Kent tipped his head towards the ceiling just as Kit jumped on the counter, “You can borrow something here.”

“I don’t think anything you have would fit me, Parse.” Soup laughed.

Kent rolled his eyes, “There’s some stuff in the guest room that the guys have left here over the years. I think there’s a pair of Swoops’ boardshorts in there somewhere, those should fit you.”

Kent ignored the sting he felt when he thought of Swoops. He pushed the thought of their last fight out of his head and focused on Soup.

“I’m still taller than Swoops.” Soup said.

Which, yeah. Swoops was already basically a walking tree person, and Soup still had an inch or two on him.

“Which means that Soups’ god awful boardshorts will look better on you then they do on him.”

Kent mercilessly teased Swoops about the shorts any time he wore them. Once you hit a certain age, swimwear was not supposed to go past your knees.

“I’m probably 15 minutes away?” Soup said, “If my Uber ever gets here.”

“Cool, cool.” Kent said, trying to aim for casual, “Just come straight up, I’ll call down and let them know you’re on your way.”

“Cool.” Soup echoed, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Kent hung up the phone and ran his hand over Kit’s back, trying to ignore how excited he felt about the idea of hanging out with Soup for the afternoon.

Kent busied himself waiting for Soup to arrive. He took down the sit up bar in the living room, picked up Kit’s abandoned toys off the floor, and then fluffed all the pillows on the couch for some reason. There was a knock at the door just as Kent sat the last pillow back in its place.

Kent opened the door and took a step back when he saw Soup. Soup was wearing dark jeans with a light blue painter’s shirt. It should have looked ridiculous, because _who_ wore painter’s shirts anymore, but Soup looked good in it. His hair was pushed back and there was just a little bit of stubble where his playoffs beard had been a few weeks before.

“Nice shirt.” Kent grinned, for lack of anything else to say.

Soup glared, “Shut up, it’s comfortable.”

Kent innocently shrugged and turned his back to Soup, “I was just complimenting your shirt.”

Kent darted into the guest room and sifted through the closet until he found an old pair of Swoops’ shorts folded in the corner. He grabbed them and went back to the living room, tossing them at Soup.

Soup unfolded them and cringed, “These are hideous.”

Kent smirked, “That’s Swoops for you.”

The shorts were some god awful plaid print, all colors that didn’t go together and looked like they were selected at random. Swoops had gotten them for a whole $2 at some terrible little outlet store they’d run into one day. $2 was still too much if you asked Kent.

Soup stepped around Kent and disappeared down the hall towards the bathroom. Kent pulled off his shirt and dropped it over the back of the couch, replacing it with a white button up that he left unbuttoned. Kent turned around when he heard Soup’s footsteps behind him.

Kent had to try very hard to keep his mouth from falling open when he saw Soup. Kent had no idea that Swoops’ ugly shorts could look that good on someone, but there was Soup, standing in Kent’s living room looking like he just walked out of a photoshoot. The shorts hit him at just the right place and clung to the muscles of his thighs, Soup’s extra couple inches of height making them look like they were made specifically for his body.

And all that was before Kent’s eyes even got to Soup’s body. Soup’s body was…wow. Kent had seen him naked before, but he’d long since learned to control wandering eyes in locker rooms and he never really took the time to appreciate how jacked Soup was.

Kent shook his head, turning around and quickly grabbing his wallet off the coffee table. Kent wasn’t stupid, he could appreciate how damn good Soup looked without wanting anything more. Aside from the fact that Soup was so obviously straight, it wasn’t like Kent would jump into bed with him if he wasn’t. Kent had no desire to even think about dating anyone, let alone just sleeping with someone. Sex was something Kent would do just fine without after the last few times with Mark had left him feeling uncomfortable in his own skin.  

“Where are we going?” Soup asked, drawing Kent out of his thoughts.

Kent shook his head and pointed towards the ceiling, “Up.”

While Kent technically lived in the penthouse, there was a whole section of his building above him that was reserved for the buildings spa and indoor pool, and then the outdoor pool sat on the rooftop above. Kent let himself and Soup out into the hallway and towards the second elevator. Kent’s private elevator only took him from the ground floor to his apartment.

“Back to the land of the living?” Soup asked as the elevator doors closed.

Kent shrugged, “Sorta? I’m not ready to go outside the building, but I think I can manage a few hours on the roof under the sun.”

“Limbo then?” Soup asked.

Kent’s brows rose to his hairline, “You want to play a game of limbo?”

Soup’s face was flat, and then he broke into a fit of laughter, “No, Parse. Limbo as in the world between life and death.”

Kent felt his face heating up in embarrassment and he turned his back to Soup, “It was a totally honest mistake.”

“Sure, Parse.” Soup was still laughing, “We’ll go with that.”

Mercifully, Kent was saved by the dinging of the elevator as the doors opened to the rooftop patio. Kent stepped out first and inclined his head for Soup to follow him. Kent tipped his head upwards and let out a content sigh as he felt the sun wash over his skin.

“I love it up here.” Kent smiled.

It was Kent’s favorite part about his building, it was what sold him on it in the first place. The solid wood deck stretched out across the rooftop and ended at the infinity pool that overlooked the Las Vegas skyline. A row of private cabanas lined one side of the deck, while the other side was full of expensive, luxury sun chairs, and a long bar stretched across the remaining space.

Kent led Soup to the bar, “You want anything?”

Soup shrugged, “A beer?”

Kent rolled his eyes, “Boring.”

Soup’s reply was cut off by the bartender stopping in front of them and smiling.

“Kent Parson!” Henry, Kent’s favorite bartender, smiled, “Nice to see you around.”

“Hey, Henry.” Kent said, “You going to hook me up today?”

Henry smiled, his teeth bright white, “Only the best for my favorite customer.”

Kent grinned, feeling like he was himself for the first time in a few weeks, “Give me a Mai Tai and my friend back here will have the most boring beer you have on tap.”

“Fuck off.” Soup grumbled, "Who drinks a Mai Tai?" 

“One Mai Tai with a frilly umbrella and one beer coming up!” Henry drifted further down the bar with another smile.

Henry was Kent’s favorite because he totally understood Kent’s love of frilly cocktail umbrellas.

“Add an umbrella to the beer too!” Kent called after Henry.

When Kent turned around he found Soup staring off into the distance.

“It’s nice up here.” Soup said with a small smile.

Kent leaned against the bar, “It really is. Do you want a cabana or a chair?”

“What do you want?” Soup asked.

Kent took a second to respond, he was so used to Mark deciding everything that he’d found himself deferring to other people instead of making decisions he wanted even now that Mark was gone.

“We should grab a couple chairs,” Kent said, “it’s too nice out to waste a cabana rental.”

“Two chairs coming up.” Soup said, stepping away from the bar and off towards the pool area.

Kent watched as Soup’s imposing body cut its way through the crowd and came to a stop in front of two chairs right at the edge of the infinity pool. Kent grinned, it was prime real-estate, and someone would probably try to fight Soup for them. Soup sat on one of the chairs, stretching his body out as he reclined, and then draped his arm over the side of the other to save it for Kent.

“Drinks as requested.” Henry said from behind Kent.

Kent turned and grabbed the glasses from Henry, smiling at the green frilly umbrella sitting in Soup’s beer.

“You’re the best.” Kent laughed.

Henry shrugged, Kent was pretty sure Henry knew he was amazing, “You look good, Kent. I’m glad you’re back with us.”

Kent blinked a few times before he could regain his composure, “Thanks…it’s good to be back.”

Henry nodded and turned away to help someone who’d just approached the bar, so Kent made his way over to Soup. When he got to their chairs, Soup was already relaxed with his arms above his head and his eyes closed.

Kent totally didn’t take an extra second to appreciate Soup’s flexed biceps before stepping in front of the sun and casting a shadow over him.

Soup cracked open one eye, “Parse?”

Kent handed him his beer, “I hope you appreciate the umbrella.”

Soup sat up and grabbed the drink from Kent, skeptically eyeing the umbrella but saying nothing otherwise, and took a sip before sitting it down on the small table between his and Kent’s before reclining back in his chair.

Kent wrapped his lips around the straw of his drink and drained half of it before laying in the chair next to Soup, “So, what were you up to today.”

Soup turned his head to the side and looked at Kent, “Nothing much. A few errands, and Kelly had the car, so I didn’t really plan much other than that. I figured I’d see if you wanted company when I was done.”

Kent propped his head up on his hand, “Are you just hanging out with me because you think I’m going to lose my mind or something?”

Soup rolled his eyes, “No, Parse.”

“Are you sure?” Kent asked, leaning forward a bit.

“I’m positive.” Soup said.

“We’ve never really hung out…so…”

“So you’re wondering why I wanted to start?”

Kent grimaced, “Maybe? Yes? I don’t know.”

Soup sighed, “I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone. and its something that I don't want other people to know.”

Kent swallowed, what on earth could Soup want to tell him that would require it being kept a secret? Whatever it was, Soup seemed to trust Kent with it, and that made something stir inside of Kent. Kent nodded slowly and waited for Soup to talk.

Soup reached over and grabbed his beer, downing half the glass before looking at Kent, “I just came from my therapist’s office.”

And that…that was the last thing Kent expected Soup to say.

“You’re in therapy?” Kent asked, his voice low.

Soup didn’t seem like the type of person who’d need to have a therapist, though Kent quickly realized how fucked up that preconceived notion was and pushed it out of his mind. You couldn’t tell if someone needed therapy just because of how they looked. An image of Soup his rookie year flashed in Kent’s brain, terrified and alone in a conference room. 

Kent felt like an asshole for even thinking Soup was somehow above therapy just because he looked like he could karate chop a boulder in half.

Lord knows Kent himself wasn’t perfectly put together.

Soup nodded, “We were just talking and you came up.”

Kent’s eyes went wide, “You talked about me?”

“Not you specifically,” Soup said, “Just…something related to the other night.”

“Oh.” Kent said quietly.

He wanted to push, like, badly. But Kent was smart enough to know that would be the wrong move.

“Anyway,” Soup let out a long breath of air, “it just made me think of you, and I figured I’d see if you wanted to hang out, that’s all.”

“Thanks.” Kent said, “For, uh, trusting me. I guess.”

Soup laughed and rolled his eyes, and like it was the most normal thing he’d ever said, “I trust you, Kent.”

Kent’s stomach flipped, there was something about Soup saying his name, not Parse, or Parser, or Parson, but _Kent_.

Kent looked over as he heard the legs of Soup’s chair scrape against the wooden deck, and then Soup was towering over him.

“I’m gonna jump in the po-” Soup was cut off by his phone buzzing on the table next to his drink, “Hold on, that’s my brother.”

Soup knew without even looking at the phone. So his brother either had a special ring tone, or not that many other people called Soup.

Kent propped himself up on his elbows and watched Soup as he answered his phone. He noticed the exact moment Soup’s expression went from relaxed to terrified and absolutely panicked.

“Kelly,” Soup said quickly, “Kelly, slow down and tell me what happened.”

Kent’s eyes went wide and he sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the chair and leaning closer towards where Soup had sat down.

“Are you OK?”

Kent could see Soup’s hand trembling as it held the phone to his ear.

“Kelly, I don’t care about the car,” Soup pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m not mad, I promise. All I care about is if you’re OK.”

Silence for a few more seconds, nothing but the sound of Soup’s ankle knocking against the leg of his chair.

“OK. Good. Tell me where you are, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

When Soup hung up the phone he only took a second to rest his face in his hand before standing up, “I have to go.”

Kent stood up and walked closer, “What happened? Is your brother OK?”

Soup sighed, “I think. Yeah. There was a car accident, he said my Jeep is totaled but he’s OK.”

“Shit.” Kent whispered, “Where is he?”

“A few blocks from the apartment,” Soup laughed bitterly, “I have to go, I’ll get an Uber there or something.”

Kent watched Soup’s back as he walked away. It was getting close to rush hour traffic time, and it would take Soup forever to get anywhere, let alone the actual time it took to wait for an Uber to arrive.

“My car is in the garage.” Kent said, “I…I can take you wherever you need to go.”

Soup stopped in his tacks, and then turned around, “Parse, you don’t have to.”

Kent shook his head, “Dude, I’d be the biggest asshole if I made you wait for an Uber and then pay whatever fucked up rush hour fee they’re going to tack on. My keys are in the apartment, we just need to go get them and I can have you to your brother in 15.”

Soup rubbed his eyes and exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he hunched forward. It was like Soup just had some enormous pressure lifted off his shoulders and Kent had to stop himself from going over to hug him.

“Thank you.” Soup whispered, “Seriously.”

Kent tried to give Soup his most reassuring smile, “It’s not a problem.”

Kent might have said that more for his own benefit than Soup, he really hadn’t expected to leave his apartment building for the first time in almost three weeks today. Kent wasn’t sure if he was even ready, but one look at Soup’s frantic and scared face made Kent push down any bubbling anxiety he felt.


End file.
